


The Angel Said

by cleopatraslibrary



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (see notes for more details), Body Dysphoria, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Gen, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Is this unrealistic? Author doesn't care, M/M, SO, Suspension Of Disbelief, Tony Stark Has A Heart, may be necessary for some readers, the author desperately wants hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 15:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20914196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleopatraslibrary/pseuds/cleopatraslibrary
Summary: Alone, Bucky Barnes faces the world.





	The Angel Said

**Author's Note:**

> *Body Dysphoria tag: Bucky feels unbalanced without his left arm and experiences phantom pains. The loss of his arm partially triggers the panic attack.
> 
> I do not own any of these characters. I'm just projecting. All rights are with Marvel and Disney, etc, etc.

Bucky leaned heavily against the side of a building, his mind lethargic and body weak. Phantoms pains ran up and down his left flank and he blinked rapidly, hoping to God he wasn’t crying.

He rubbed his eyes with his right palm. 

Fuck.

Bucky was definitely crying.

Allowing himself a small whimper, he knelt down heavily, dropping his worn sack onto the sidewalk beside him. He fell forward, his right arm supporting him, only his right arm, only his right hand, and five right fingers--

He clutched the ground, as the sun suddenly became too bright, and the beeping traffic too loud, and the New York metropolis too colorful, digging his fingers into the gritty, hard concrete. His breathing fell uneven, and his body swayed beneath him, his world tilting sideways as he collapsed. His head was pounding and he briefly wondered how long the tears had been running down his cheeks.

Time slowed down as he stared blankly in front of him, tears streaming over the bridge of his nose and hair mostly obscuring his vision. His throat clogged up and it was hard to breathe. 

Is this what it felt like when Steve had an asthma attack?

He forcibly shoved the thought away and tried to curl up in a fetal position.

Someone stepped in front of his line of vision, the world going disorientingly dark. It soothed his head somewhat, and it was comfortingly quiet in this new environment.

“Psst, hey,” a melodic voice murmured. “Hey, are you alright?”

Bucky whimpered again. He had only just gotten this moment of reprieve; he didn’t want it stripped away so quickly.

And with that thought, he remembered who he was.

He blinked a couple of times, before lifting his cheek from the sidewalk and shaking his hair out of the way to look up at whoever had spoken to him.

Then he blinked a few more times, because he was pretty sure he was looking at an angel.

The angel had short, curly hair and wide brown eyes that reflected concern. He was crouching down, probably wrinkling the expensive grey suit he was wearing.

He didn’t seem to mind it, though. Bucky guessed that if he were from Heaven, they’d have automatic ironing for clothes anyway.

It was then Bucky realized he’d asked him a question. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Sorry?” he croaked.

“I asked if you were alright. Nothing big, not like your social security number, or anything, though I don't even know mine, so God knows what I’d do with yours,” the angel said. Weird thing for an angel to say.

“Uh,” Bucky replied eloquently. He didn’t know how to respond, but slowly, he was regaining his senses, and saw people staring at him from the corner of his eye. He focused back on the angel. “I’m uh, better now,” he finally said. “Sorry.”

The angel reeled back. “Woah, don't apologize on my account! Everyone goes through some rough times. Need help sitting up?”

He began to shake his head, still fucking parallel to the ground, when he decided, no, fuck it. “That’d be real great, doll. I’d appreciate it.”

The angel blinked at him, before helping to right Bucky, his hands settling on both of his shoulders. Bucky tensed when the angel touched him, but couldn’t stop himself from leaning in towards the warmth. The world spun and Bucky squeezed his eyes tight, hoping the dizziness would fade.

After a few deep breaths, he cracked open his eyes and released the tension in his shoulders when he could see straight again. The angel was still there, smiling crookedly at Bucky.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, an abrupt tuba filled the air and the angel scrambled into his jacket pockets.

“Is… is that the  _ Curb Your Enthusiasm _ theme song?” he asked, somewhat incredulously. The angel smirked, nodded, and stood up straight, the sun shining down on him as if he actually were ethereal. Bucky wondered.

The angel answered the phone. “Pepper, light of my life, my better half, bountiful goddess, _my boss_,” he mouthed to Bucky, “what is it you need, dear?”

Bucky grinned weakly. He still felt vulnerable, but this man, this angel in front of him… He was a wonder. 

He was quickly growing somber, though, and the glow left his eyes as he hummed his assent to whatever Pepper was saying. “I’ll be there soon,” the angel promised and Bucky couldn’t help the slight disappointment he felt. He hung up his phone and reached into his jacket, pulling out a wallet.

Immediately, a shot of alarm (_and shame_, his mind reminded him) went through Bucky as the man grabbed a few hundreds and handed them over. “I… I can’t accept this,” he said weakly.

“Okay,” the angel said. Bucky blinked. “But! I will not be leaving you out here, so follow me.” He held out a hand for Bucky to grab. 

He only hesitated a moment before he latched on, letting the angel help him onto his feet. Once he was up, the angel turned around and immediately walked into the building they had been next to.

Bucky stared after him and watched as he turned around in the entryway, saying, “You coming?” Bucky nodded absently and grabbed his duffel bag, following him into an opulent vestibule. His jaw dropped.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” the angel asked rhetorically. At least, it had to be rhetorically because clearly, it was a given. Polished white floors, dark walls with a lot of windows and where there weren’t windows, vibrant, colorful paintings that matched the bouquets littering the desks, side tables, and couches. It was beautiful.

Regardless, Bucky nodded anyway.

The angel grinned, as if his opinion had mattered a great deal to him, and Bucky couldn’t help but return it. Turning away, the angel called, “Hey happy!”

Bucky squinted at him, before he realized Happy was a person, who was now jogging over to the angel. 

“What’s up, boss? Who’s this? Don't you have a meeting you need to get to?” Happy asked suspiciously. He eyed Bucky from the corner of his eye.

“I need you to get security clearance for…” The angel looked at Bucky expectantly.

“Bucky,” he answered automatically, before he cringed. “No, not Bucky, uh. Barnes. James Buchanan Barnes.”

The angel blinked at him. “Bucky? I’m assuming it came from Buchanan?”

“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly, shifting his duffel higher onto his shoulder so he could scratch the back of his head. “My friends call me Bucky.”

The angel seemed to shake himself out of his stupor, but not before he muttered, “Bucky,” again. “Anyway. Clearance for levels 65 and 67. Yes, I do have a meeting I need to get to, so time is of the essence, Happy!”

Happy sighed heavily. “You do realize I have to vet you, yeah?” Bucky nodded. “Do you have any ID?”

“My social was stolen from me and my passport too, but I have my birth certificate.”

Happy nodded, looking more resigned than suspicious at this point. “Alright. Come with me, and we’ll get you all sorted out.”

He turned on his heel and Bucky followed. He was surprised when the angel did as well.

“So, I noticed your… lack of a, well.” Bucky tensed, before deciding to put the other man out of his misery.

“Arm?”

“Yeah. That.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I was wondering if you’d like to be considered as a candidate for a prosthetic unit we’re starting here at SI.” Bucky froze, stopping for a second, before continuing to walk. The angel paused with him and fell back into step with him. “You a veteran?” Bucky nodded. “Then you’d fit the criteria. Once we have you vetted, even if you decide not to join, you’re welcome to stay here for the time being.”

This time, Bucky stopped on purpose. “You’re an angel.”

The other man laughed. “Far from it,” but Bucky was already shaking his head. 

“I mean it. Thank you.” A thought struck him. “What’s your name?”

“Tony.”

Bucky smiled for the first time in a long time. “Nice to meet you, Tony.”

“You too, Bucky.”

**Author's Note:**

> i kind of forgot about this little thing and hadn't finished it. i was in a bad headspace when i first wrote it and i'm in a bad headspace now. i just wrote a long ass rant about it, but tbh. i can't be bothered.
> 
> comments and kudos are so very appreciated i love all of you i hope you enjoyed please validate me   
i love you - lexoxo


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